Kind of Like Shakespeare
by Victoria Kathleen Wright
Summary: I found myself as aloof, seclusive. Little did I know it was precisely this quality that would make me one of the greatest targets of fate... After all, it's very nearly tearing me apart. Adrenaline Junkie: Full Story
1. Before It All Started

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

**All right, there's been a lot of anticipation for this. And slowly I've gotten _that _excited, too. Yes, it is the full story of my oneshot Adrenaline Junkie. However, that will also remain its own story. Okay, happy reading! And review!**

**Kind of Like Shakespeare**

**Chapter 1: Before It All Started**

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><p><strong>"All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better."<strong>  
>-Ralph Waldo Emerson<p>

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><p>Meet me. Ginevra Molly Weasley.<p>

_My_ life is definitely an experiment. Each and every event in it is completely unreal.

First, I get born as a witch. Not just any witch, but the seventh child and first Weasley daughter in seven generations, which, according to folklore, makes me more susceptible to Muggle and Wizarding disease and also gives me a hell of a lot power. Plus, my wonderfully morbid Auntie Muriel, as my fifth birthday present, introduced me to a prophecy made by the great Seer, Rolanda Prewett (incidentally a good friend of Cassandra Trelawney's mother), which proclaims that the daughter of a Prewett and a "lower breed family" (Mum very nearly chased her out of the house that day) would be destined to be a bridge between evil and good.

Yay me.

Needless to say, nobody paid that little comment any heed on my ceremonious coming of age into kidhood since nobody listens to Auntie Muriel anyway.

By then, I was being dazzled by bedtime stories of my personal superhero, Harry Potter. By nine, I had 'Mrs. Ginny Potter' doodled all over my room in various places. (I seriously need to move out.) And when I played with my mute, doe-eyed dolls, the prettiest girl would "somehow" end up being named Ginny and the boy would also coincidentally be named "Harold". Of course, it was only "Harold" when good old Ronniekins was around. Otherwise, it was Harry. Just Harry.

I think that said something about me. From that age, that obsessed... It really seems sad, now.

I'd always thought my first ten years of life were rather lackluster. Recently, though, I see it all in a new light.

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><p><em><span>"Now, Ginbug, are you listening to me?"<span>_

_Of course not, Daddy._

_Instead, I was glancing around the Ministry Atrium, not having seen _anything _this big since I'd last been to Auntie Muriel's mansion ("I really don't want the lot of you touching and dirtying anything up... Do you know what that means, Georgie?"). But I still nodded, having four years of experience in listening-but-not-really._

_"Daddy's going to be back in five minutes. He has a meeting, but you can't come, sweetie, so don't tell Mummy, but you have to stay with the nice Ministry lady. Okay?"_

_"Yes, Daddy," I replied with the adorable obedience only a four-year-old can have. And my Daddy went off. _

_At the time, I thought him quite naive to have left a known troublemaker like me alone, but I soon learned that my Dad was a lot more trusting and sharp-eyed than my lovely, overbearing, scolding, delusional, loving Mummy (Oh, Fred and George are just going through a phase. Honestly, Ginny, you're just a little four-year-old. What would you know about your big, seven-year-old brothers?)._

_What she didn't realize was that I'd been taking lessons from Fred and George. ("Ginny, when we're gone-" "Or our creativity stifled by Mum." "Yes, George, or that. You, our beloved knight, will still be around to carry out our noble work.") I didn't know what "creativity" or "noble" meant, but I agreed to be just like them anyway._

_So I sat on the couch, waiting for the hawk-eyed Ministry woman to turn back to her papers. When she did, I'd just started to climb down the seemingly tall couch, when someone tapped on my behind. I whirled around, as taught by my mother, to a face a tall, formally dressed, silver-eyed boy._

_"Don't you know it's bwad to touch a lady _there_?" I hissed, whispering as if he'd committed a scandalous crime._

_The boy, about five years old, sighed exasperatedly, and eyed my long, tangled hair distastefully. "You awen't a lady." He would have sounded intimidating and authoritative if it weren't for his "awen't"._

_As it was, he still irked me. "What do you mean?"_

_"That doesn't matter. I'm a Malfoy, and Malfoys always get what they want. And I want to sit on that couch. My leggies hurt from standing so long, and I want to sit!"_

_"Fine, sit with me." I said, my irritation evaporating. "But why do Malfoys always get what they want? My mommy says I can't get what I want for dinner."_

_He scooted up next to me and my teddy bear, Mr. Franklin McCuddles. "I don't know," He said, puzzled. "But my mother says the same thing. Last night, she made _fish_." He finished in a horrific whisper._

_I gave a terrified gasp. "Mummies. They don't know what they're doing at all."_

_He nodded pompously._

_We sat for silence in a few minutes. I grew restless quickly and interrupted with my musing. "I want to be one."_

_"What?"_

_"A Malfoy."_

_"Well, you can't."_

_"Awwwww. Next Mommy will feed me rats."_

_Apparently, that invoked some sympathy from him._

_"That's... Wait, I think there might be- you might be able to become a Malfoy. If you marry me."_

_"'Kay." _

_"Then it's settled. We'll have the wedding at the Manor." He declared, in his own cute five-year-old way._

_"What's the Manor?"_

_"My house."_

_"NoI'llonlygetmarriedattheBurrow!"_

_"Burrow?" He understood me perfectly._

_"My house."_

_"Oh. Fine. Since I have to marry you."_

_"Yay! You're going to wuve it."_

_We sat in a silence again. This time he sat calmly, like a mini-gentleman, while I pratically vibrated with excitement over planning my wedding and squeezing Franklin._

_"Oh, and my name's Ginny." I added as an afterthought, a few minutes later._

_"Draco."_

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><p>We both departed from the Ministry soon after, giving each other grins. Only later did I fully understand the significance of that moment. But I'd forgotten about it by the next day.<p>

When I was ten, my brother Ron, who used to be _mine_, became best-friends-forever with none other than "Harold" himself.

I nearly died the next year when I found him sitting at our kitchen table the next year.

That year, the time when I think my life truly began, however, I also met Draco again, under much different circumstances.

And I met my first love, who changed my life forever. And no, it wasn't Harry, incidentally enough.

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><p><strong>So, what'd you think? This is going to be almost all of Ginny's Hogwarts career and onwards. And there'll be a lot of Draco and Harry. And Tom.<strong>

**And you'll start getting peeks at the next chapter starting with the next chapter. :)**

**Review. OR ELSE.**

**Please? Five-year-old Draco is demanding it. "Malfoys get what they want!"**

**Love, **

**Toria**


	2. Oh, Summer

**Disclaimer: Tell me I own it and I eat you.**

**Yay! I got three really positive reviews! And I really did love that chapter.**

**Now, for this, I have my copy of CoS right next to me as I write. **

**I realize this chapter is short, but still. It's Part 1 of her first year, so the next one's going to be long.**

**Kind of Like Shakespeare**

**Chapter 2: Oh, Summer**

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><p><strong>"Each year one vicious habit discarded, in time might make the worst of us good."<strong>  
>Benjamin Franklin<p>

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><p>The year started out normally enough. It'd been this way all summer: Ron ignored me, preferring to try to tag along with the older ones. It was as if the fact that he now knew Harry Potter made me nothing more than a silly fangirl to him.<p>

It would've irritated me, if I hadn't been walking around in my own haze of infatuation.

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><p><em>I bounded down the steps like I did every morning, loving the feel of my shoulder-length hair bouncing along behind me. It 'd taken years before Mum'd finally been convinced that I was old enough to grow my hair out. I'd always felt envious of little girls with long shiny blond hair or curly brown waves. I still didn't measure up to their beauty or cuteness, but it was a start.<em>

_I hopped down the last of the stairs and crossed the few feet from the landing to the kitchen. All I had a chance to see was a head of messy black hair, glasses, and really shiny teeth (Harry's or Mum's Lockhart book?), before I squealed and ran out and back up the stairs. _

_On the first landing, I stopped and my brain registered the fact that HARRY FREAKING POTTER WAS IN MY HOUSE. I slammed myself up against the walls lke the lovestruck girl usually does in books._

_BAM. Oh, crap. He didn't hear that, did he?_

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><p>The rest of my summer was spent avoiding him, stressing over my first year at Hogwarts, and teasing Mum over her obsession with Gilderoy Lockhart along with Fred and George.<p>

But then there were those few moments that I saw him and I thought I'd die out of embarrasment...

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><p><em>"Mum, I saw an ad in the Daily Prophet announcing that Lockhart may be at Diagon Alley for a signing soon!" I squealed, doing my best not to smirk or giggle.<em>

_As expected, Mum shot up from rummaging through the cabinets, quite nearly banging her head on the top of it._

_"Really, dear?" She asked, pretending to be preoccupied, " Well, if you really want to go, where did they say it's going to be... Sweetie?"_

_"Well, Mom, beneath that was an ad for obsession-ridding psychological classes. I think he miht show up there, you know, as temptation or someth-" George ducked as an enchanted pot flew at him._

_I grinned while Fred and George snickered and Mum slowly turned red. Before her impending outburst, though-_

_Bang! _

_Stupid door, I thought. It always made going in somewhere in the house so much more irritating._

_But my grumbling thoughts soon changed to a stilted heartbeat and a jolt of the breath when I realized who was on the other side._

Harry...

_CRASH! There went my bowl._

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><p>I never got any time alone with him, though, thankfully. Or it could be bad, depending on which way you looked at it.<p>

I'd had a good first impression of Hermione from the way my brother talked of her. (_"She's bossy and crazy and controlling and such a know-it-all, but she's... Great, Gin, despite it all."_) Honestly, who wouldn't have guessed who that'd eventually turn out.

But at the time, her "greatness" kind of intimidated me. What if Harry thought the same thing? She'd already taken Ron from me. I didn't resent her, but I was jealous.

I think I'd always been insecure internally. Otherwise, I was way more outgoing, especially when talking to my family and Luna, who by that time, I considered my closest friend. I suppose I was slightly put off by the fact that Harry and Hermione were altogether considered family without us actually even really meeting them when we rarely met with the Lovegoods.

Anyways, I considered my summer a complete failure.

And it was only going to get worse from there.

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><p><em>"<em>Famous _Harry Potter," Came the jeering voice while I watched in shock. "Can't even go into a _bookshop _without making the front page."_

_I stared at the platinum, gelled hair and the silver, mocking eyes and the aristocratic nose before snapping out of it. How _dare _him?_

_Before I knew it, I was speaking. "Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" _

_His eyes snapped to and bored into mine. They widened the slightest bit- nobody else would've noticed. Then he grinned devilishly._

_"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" He exclaimed, mockingly surprised. _

_Then Ron came in, and so did Draco's intimidating father. I'd almost completely zoned out, trying to reconcile this hateful boy with the wonderful, sweet friend I'd made that lonely day in the Ministry._

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><p>But of course, my luck only proved that that encounter held much more significance than I'd first believed.<p>

A week later, while packing my bags for Hogwarts, I discovered a small, brown, worn book...

And the nightmares haunt me to this day.

_I love you, Ginevra._

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><p><strong>OH DAMN. Tom's next. I think you all know how obsessed I am with him. I heart Tom, Harry, and Draco. And Blaise, but just not as much as the other three.<strong>

**If you're a Ginny fan (read D/G not only because of Draco), I HIGHLY RECOMMEND pop-pop-bananas' Rewind trilogy fanfics. They are brilliant, humorous, witty, angsty, and realistic. I love them.**

**Anyways, the next chapter might just be up this weekend itself... if you're good.**

**Special thanks to AriaTheCraZFerret (Aria), KatnissGinnyMaxTally1 (Max), and bugjs1!**

**Oh, and rowan-greenleaf's review for AJ may just be used as advertising- it was that amazing.**

**And your well-deserved sneak peek"**

**Next time:**

_"I don't know what you expect from me, Weasley. I'm a Malfoy- I've got standards, a life. And that's someting I'm not risking for anybody or anything, let alone a miserable, flea-bitten worshipper of Scarhead."_

Ginny? It doesn't fit a lady of your stature... Or your power.

Stay with me, Ginevra. I think you know that there's no denying this connection between us.

_I found myself unmistakably, undeniably drawn to the both of them, and my Harry soon dwindled to the background of voices and chatter that no longer existed for me._

**...**

**Uh, yeah. That's something I know I'm looking forward to. Hey, a question which I hope all reviewers answer: Are there any stories you want me to update at the moment, besides this one?**

**Thank you! Review! Otherwise insulted Molly with throw her pot at you. *lips twitch* Poor Georgie.**

**Love,**

**Toria**


	3. His Dark, Pure Angel

**Disclaimer: I'm ignoring my homework to write this. That means I don't own it.**

**Okay, this has to be the best chapter yet. So dark, so lovely, so amazing. T/G is a beautiful thing.**

**Kind of Like Shakespeare**

**Chapter 3: His Dark, Pure Angel**

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><p><strong>"Black as the devil, hot as hell, pure as an angel, sweet as love."<strong>  
>Charles Maurice de Talleyrand<p>

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><p><em>Mum ushered me through the platform, looking frantically behind her for any sight of Harry and Ron. I myself was not so worried. Sure, they probably <em>were_ in trouble, but didn't they always get out of it? _

_She nearly shoved me and my trunk onto the train, still gazing behind her with a quick "I love you, Ginny. Be good, be safe." And then she hurried off. _

_I noticed there was no lengthy parting she would've given Harry or Ron, and I scowled while dragging my trunk behind me onto the Express. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a head of bushy brown hair flip around the corner, and comforted myself with the knowledge that at least Hermione wasn't with them this time._

_Then I shoved myself into the nearest empty compartment and dropped into the seat, staring at my empty palms increduously. What the hell was wrong with me? When did I become such a stuck-up, resentful snob? And one who didn't even have any reason to be a snob, at that._

_Ron wasn't all mine- Neither was Harry. Harry wasn't mine at all, and I had to stop being this possessive, jealous fangirl. This was getting ridiculous. Hermione was a great person, I shouldn't be thinking about her like this!_

_I'd been having these moments of self-doubt since that incident back in summer. I was glad it was then, and not before, because now I actually had someone to help me out with it all. It was amazing that, at the time, I didn't make the connection at all._

_I jumped up and rummaged through my trunk, looking for what had quickly become my most important posession. I found the diary, and held it close to my chest as my breathing evened out._

_I opened it slowly, reveringly. _

Tom? Are you there?

_I waited a few moments, my heart stuttering._

Ginevra? Are you on the Express?

_I breathed a sigh of relief._

Yes, Tom. It's amazing.

Yes, it was a place of wonder to me in my first year, too. But wait until you get to the castle. That's the best part. It's like... Something out of a storybook. I think we share that love of our dreams, Ginevra. You'll love it as much as I did.

_I loved knowing that there was actual fondness in his words._

Call me Ginny, Tom. You know that I hate Ginevra.

_A lie, of course. I loved the way he wrote it in his beautiful, flowing script._

Ginny? It doesn't fit a lady of your stature... Or your power.

Power, Tom? I'm nothing but a useless little girl.

Don't say that! Don't let the world dictate you, Ginevra! You're meant to be everything.

_I could feel the tears dripping down my face. At first, I'd hated them as a show of weakness. Now, they represented the love and devotion I had for him. Tom. Truly mine._

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><p>Just like I was his.<p>

And sometimes, I think- no, I _know_- that I'll always be his. But hopefully, there will be someone else.

I made no friends that year, if you don't count the beginning of my acquaintance with Colin, and my odd friendship with Luna. Both of us liked to be alone, me with Tom and her with her thoughts.

Colin, although friendly, sickened me at first. He could have been a great guy, but he was slowly degrading himself, as Tom said.

I was glad Tom had changed me for the better. He made me more confident, more unfeeling, more... Powerful. I liked this feeling of being in control. Harry didn't control my life, and neither did Ron or my family. Tom had made me my own person. It was only the two of us, and I felt as we were one force that the world overlooked, but one that was truly superior to the rest of them.

To put it simply, I loved him. He was the most caring, sweet friend I'd ever had. He brought me to my full potential.

He was brilliant. And I was his loyal devotee.

_Tom, I love you. And don't... You don't have to love me back, but know that I love you for the brilliant and amazing man you are. Don't push me away._

_Ginevra, I'm... flattered. Nobody's ever loved me before and this only further proves what a gentle and perfect creature you are. Stay with me, Ginevra. __I think you know that there's no denying this connection between us._

But those were the beautiful moments in between the mess of confusion and darkness...

_Tom, I've got... something that looks like blood all over my robes! And, and, Tom, I- don't hate me for this- but I can't remember where I was when Mrs. Norris was Petrified. I've tried, but I- I can't remember! It isn't me Tom, right? That's not possible, is it?_

And he reassured me, again and again, that it couldn't be me- I was too good, too pure, too innocent.

But I still couldn't help but feel as if this was somehow related to the weird mood swings I'd been having all year.

And then there was one Draco Malfoy, who made my mind an even more jumbled mess. I really had this odd curiousity about him.

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><p><em>I bumped into someone, and my books flew everywhere. I dropped to my knees, hoping desperately that Tom's diary wasn't harmed. <em>

_"Sorry," I muttered, not looking up._

_"Should've known only a weasel could be so absentminded," came the snide reply._

_I looked up to see Draco, his silver eyes flashing with malice and what looked like... fear, possibly?_

_"Draco," I breathed._

_"Don't call me that, Weasley. You're not fit to wipe the dirt from my shoes." He said, suddenly curt and stone-faced._

_"Draco!" I cried, hurt and betrayed. "I cannot believe you would take a little family feud to shape you into such a hurtful person!"_

_"I don't know what you expect from me, Weasley. I'm a Malfoy- I've got standards, a life. And that's someting I'm not risking for anybody or anything, let alone a miserable, flea-bitten worshipper of Scarhead."_

_And then he stalked away, not looking back once at my puzzled face._

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><p>I wasn't all that hurt by him. I might've been, if I didn't have Tom, who told me regularly what a wonderful and amazing piece of perfection I was.<p>

But by that time, Tom had become somewhat... suspicious. He'd make odd comments about the tragic incidents taking place at Hogwarts, and once, while in a flashback of his, talking to him in his old dorm, I could _swear_ I saw his alluring dark eyes flash a deep, scary scarlet.

Frightened, I threw him into Myrtle's toilet. But the next week, I discovered I couldn't survive without him, although I so desperately tried...

And when I saw _his _diary in Harry's arms, my insides froze. What if Harry discovered my secret? The hero of the world surely wouldn't,_ couldn't_, understand my fixation with Tom, despite his goodness.

So I stole him back, and cried and begged Tom for his forgiveness, telling him how I felt I couldn't breathe without him, how the rest of the world was just a blur to me, how he was my everything. And he took me back, forgiving me, and giving me more then I deserved.

Draco was probably my second priority that year, although he didn't come anywhere close to Tom.

I found myself unmistakably, undeniably drawn to the both of them, and my Harry soon dwindled to the background of voices and chatter that no longer existed for me.

But then,_ then_, Tom promised me to come for me, so that we'd be together forever.

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><p><em>"You promised, Tom! How could you? I loved you so, and I was nothing more than a tool for you!" I used my last words to the man I loved in a way so that he'd know how he'd betrayed me horribly.<em>

_His feverish excitement softened and dwindled until he once again appeared to be my old friend, the love of my life._

_"Ginevra, you know now who I am. You know how I was brought up. You know that my life won't let me love. Love, Ginevra, is a weakness. You would have been great, if it weren't for Potter. And I cured you of that disease. But your love for me only brought you higher. Until now, that is. Just look at what all you sacrificed for me. And you know that I wouldn't give you up for anything less than this."_

_He looked away._

_"And... For what it's worth, Ginevra, I very nearly loved you as well. You will be a part of me, even after this. I won't let you go." He spoke forcefully, tilting my chin up and forcing me to stare into those brooding, dark eyes once again._

_"Then, Tom, I wish it didn't have to be this way. I wish you were good... But I can't help but love you. Does that make me evil, too, Tom?"_

_"No, Ginevra, it makes you perfect, my saviour angel, who simply couldn't succeed."_

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><p><strong>xxx Oh, how I love those last words. I think we all know what happens next.<strong>

**No, I don't have any reviews yet for Chapter 2, so I'm thaking everybody who simply read it. Please review, though!**

**The next chapter will probably be about both her second (PoA) and third (GoF) years. The story really starts right after Bill and Fleur's wedding, so right now it'sall just flashbacks for Ginny.**

**Lot more Draco coming up in the next few years. Remember their former relationship in AJ? **

**Next time:**

"Draco, don't stupid. I'm not making you give up something. I just wanted to see what this all means."

"I hate this, Ron. I don't like being pushed off as nothing more than your baby sister. I want the world, and our family, for that matter, to see me as more than simply an admirer of the Golden Trio."

"That Delacour chick's getting on my nerves."

"Don't think you're getting off with this _that _easily, Draco. I'm not one to be played with."

**...**

**REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!**

**Love,**

**Toria**


	4. Silver and Thunder

**Disclaimer: It's mine. Yes. And so are you. And everything else in the world.**

**Oh, I know I've taken forever to write a new chapter, and I _am _sorry. However, I was busy with the ups and downs of high school (nasty but exhilarating little devil it is), and the new Harry Potter Club I'm forming at our wonderful school. **

**However, there was another club being formed by sophomores (a Quidditch Club) that apparently was too close in theme with ours for the committee, and so now we have to collaborate or they only choose one of us. And the main girl telling us this was quite bitchy and condescending about it, too. Hmph. But, anyways, we have great plans for this club -squeal-. **

**Also... um, I... well... Never mind. I forgot. Okay, well, enjoy.**

**Oh, WAIT! I remember! Yes, I know I promised you the next two years but unfortunately I could only get the next one done. It's still very good, though - even though the next one will be better and more dramatic. I HEART DRAMA, as I'm sure you very well know.**

**Okay, now you may read. :)**

**Kind of Like Shakespeare**

**Chapter 4: Silver and Thunder**

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><p><strong>"A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step."<strong>

Lao Tzu

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><p>The next summer began with murmurs of the first ever escape from Azkaban.<p>

Sirius Black, what a name. It just screams criminal, does it not? Well, there's your verdict- there's no innocent man who'd ever try to escape the law, is there? Merlin, it's time to start keeping the kids indoors!

It was hilarious, really, how everybody was acting as if Tom himself had come back. It was also stupid. I, of course, was as shielded as possible from all of it. Not that it stopped me.

My family seemed to forget that I had other older brothers besides Ron and Percy. Contrary to popular belief, the twins had already began developing Extendable Ears by that time. Well, they were perfecting the art of eavesdropping, anyway.

Observation is an extremely useful teacher.

And I also didn't exactly shut my brain off when nobody was talking to me, you know. I think Mum used to think that. Despite everything that happened the year before, she still saw me in the same light. Stupid little Ginny.

Dad was a whole different matter. I may have been his baby girl, but he was probably the only one who had ever shown any kind of actual respect for Auntie Muriel's words (excluding, of course, Mum's "She is your Auntie Muriel, my aunt, and- no matter what she may say or dress like, _Fred and George- _you will treat her with respect!"). He saw me as more than the baby of the family, and always had this twinkle in his eye when he looked at me- kind of like Dumbledore.

I knew he knew that I heard everything, that I listened, and that I plotted.

He didn't care.

What exactly did I plot? Well, that's a very complex subject. I didn't intentionally plot anything. I subconsciously knew I was going to do whatever possible to be a part of this fight. This was my world Tom was terrorizing after all, wasn't it?

But after Harry came, and I found out (eavesdropping, of course) that it was _him _Sirius Black was after, I learned quickly that the choice was made for me.

And not the way you might think.

Because, you see, at Hogwarts, I was extremely immersed with the beauty of the grounds, now knowing that I wasn't going around killing Hagrid's chickens.

And there I met a giant black dog, who soon became my closest companion.

For example...

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><p><em>"It's downright rude! I hate it!" <em>

_The giant dog looked up from where he was lazily playing around with a bunch of berries and glared at me with what could be easily interpreted as exasperation. _

_I decided to interpret it as an indication to go on._

_"Ron specifically told me to butt out. And Harry and Hermione don't even bother to hear it! If they sometimes do, though, it's just one scandalized 'Honestly, Ron!' from Hermione and then nothing!"_

_We're sitting dangerously close to the Forbidden Forest while I'm ranting while trying to keep up the pretense of studying with books on my lap._

_"And, really, what can I do? It's hardly like I can go up to him and say, __'I hate this, Ron. I don't like being pushed off as nothing more than your baby sister. I want the world, and our family, for that matter, to see me as more than simply an admirer of the Golden Trio,' now can I?"_

_The black dog shook his shaggy fur out of his eyes and rolled his eyes._

_"Yes, I completely agree - you're right. He's got no right to continue this. Really, though. What _is _he thinking?"_

_The dog glared at me._

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><p>When I wasn't playing with my dear doggy friend, I was sitting around the grounds, drawing in a little sketchbook I had found in a pile of Percy's books that summer. I also spent a great deal of time... um... well... drawing rather <em>close <em>to where Harry and Professor Lupin met a number of times throughout the year. Their meetings were nothing if not interesting and educational. Yes, that's it. Also, I was rather fond of Professor Lupin. He was a much better teacher than Lockhart, and, to be honest, many of the teachers at the school. I didn't actually go up and talk to him besides classes because I can be shy often - and I'm not exactly the type of person who likes to be the center of attention.

However, there was one person this rule did not apply to _at all_ - Draco Malfoy.

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><p><em>I hid inside Greenhouse Number Three, waiting for the third years to walk by up to the castle. Finally, the sounds of laughter and just plain rowdiness reached my ears, alerting me to the fact that they were indeed now coming. I waited a few moments, listening to the sound of rain pattering on the window next to me, knowing that the one person I was searching for lingered on behind them all. <em>

_Right when I could tell the moment was right, I reached an arm out and yanked on the robes belonging to a certain pale and fair-haired, drenched boy._

_He stumbled into the darkness and crashed into the wall next to me. Instead of looking affronted like I'd expected (well, hoped) him to, he straightened his corner and glared. Damn, could that boy _glare_! _

_His molten silver eyes seemed to burn a hole straight through you, and I had almost zero doubt that he was trying to accomplish the yet impossible feat of setting fire to someone with a look. He was going to have to find a weaker test subject, although there was no small quantity of them._

_"Draco." I whispered first, letting his name hang in the air, since it seemed he had no wish to break his focus on setting me aflame._

_"What do you want, Weasley? Today's not a day I usually donate to charity, you know. Maybe try tomorrow." He sneered, but I could see a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes - something that I only saw when he looked at me._

_Draco Malfoy may have gone out of his way to trouble each and every one of my brothers, even going far enough to sometimes insult Fred and George (brave, eh?). But when it came to her, his eyes seemed to pass over her form. He never mentioned, never acknowledged her in any way - Not when he was insulting her brothers and not when he was passing by her. _

_Oh, well, there was one exception - last year's Valentine's Day. But I believed the only reason he did that was because it targeted Harry._

_I stared at him, and I was sure I was unnerving him a little. To his credit, he remained completely passive, not breaking my gaze. _

_Slowly, gently, almost unconsciously, I brought up my hand - the same one that had pulled him in and disrupted his path so - and caressed his pale, cold face, and I dared to lean in closer to him, feeling his cool and calm surround me. _

_"Draco, don't stupid. I'm not making you give up something. I just wanted to see what this all means."_

_I wanted him so desperately to see that he was the one person who I believed understood what it was like to be on the outside looking in. Being with me, as aquaintances or friends or anything more, didn't mean he had to change himself or give up his family or his virtues or his beliefs. I had no problem being a dirty little secret. None at all, because, after all, that's what everything was with me - not just him._

_And you know something? His eyes glistened with a little more of that something, and he completed what I'd started, leaned down just a little, and pressed his wet, cool lips to mine._

_And the thunderstorm raged on outside our little world._

* * *

><p><strong>xxx I love rain. Especially thunderstorms. I don't know why people prefer sunlight; it's great, but not as awesome as rain.<strong>

**'Cuz when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even... "Breakeven". What a wonderful song. Almost as good as The Script's "Nothing". **

**Okay, if you liked the good things (it can't really be classified as fluff) in this chapter, I'll have you know that the next one has much more interaction with the outside world and fallouts. They have to break up for Adrenaline Junkie to happen, don't they?**

**Thanks to all readers, but especially to Aria, Ami, and General Herbison for reviewing.**

**RTD is still my baby, and I have the next chapter planned out, but I just can't bring myself to actually write it, Aria. Here's a hint, though, that won't come up for the next few chapters: Blaise isn't all that he seems. He's obviously not evil or the murderer or anything, but still there's something there that he's struggling with.**

**No glimpse of the next chapter, because you already have it from the last chapter.**

**REVIEW! Especially so that I'm reminded that the next chapter is on my To-Do List and keep writing it.**

**Love,**

**Toria**


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